


The One Where Dean is Jealous of Garth

by sconesandtextingandmurder



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sconesandtextingandmurder/pseuds/sconesandtextingandmurder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Could Dean be jealous...of Garth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where Dean is Jealous of Garth

“Here. Lemme switch seats. It’ll be easier if you’re watching from the same angle.” Garth moved from his seat at the end of the table to the one next to Castiel. He slid the towel holding his weapon into place in front of him. “Ok, let’s break this down step by step.” Slowly he took apart his gun, making sure Cas was copying each move. When they both had their guns disassembled, they reversed their work putting them back together, one piece at a time. Garth worked patiently, never letting Cas fall too far behind. They went though the process twice before Garth let Cas try it on his own. Without Garth guiding him, his movements were a little hesitant, but he got the order just right. 

“That’s it. You just needed some practice.” Garth seemed genuinely pleased by his student’s progress. 

“Thank you, Garth. You have a very encouraging way that makes it easy for me to learn.” 

“Well, Dean can be a bit of a drill sergeant,” Garth began, but Castiel quickly shook off this criticism of his friend.

“He has high expectations.”

“Do you want to try cleaning it now?” Cas brightened at the prospect of adding to his knowledge. Garth put a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him proudly. “My little Padawan.”

 

Dean stood just outside the door. Oh, this was one hell of a love-fest. But all that encouragement wasn’t going to do the angel any good when push came to shove. No monster was going to back off while Castiel explained how much progress he’d been making. Either he could do it, or he couldn’t. 

That’s why Cas’s endless questioning had led Dean to swear and storm out half an hour ago. Come to think of it, having Cas sit next to him like Garth did probably would’ve hel--Dean pushed that thought out of his mind. The point of all of this was to keep Cas safe and that could only happen if he followed instructions. There was no room here for self-esteem building and handholding.

Dean decided it was time to break up this Kindergarten class before Garth started passing out cookies and juice. He’d barely gotten through the doorway when Cas’ entire demeanor changed. The smile left his face and he sat up straighter, his shoulders back. He looked both wary and alert. 

Dean recognized that transition. It was the same thing he used to do every time his father walked into the room. Castiel had turned into a soldier, ready for battle, and the look on his face said that perhaps Dean was the enemy.

In contrast, Garth had scarcely even looked up. “We’re making good progress in here.” Garth smiled at Cas who looked momentarily confused, not sure if it was appropriate to accept this compliment. Dean nodded and turned on his heel, the lecture he’d intended left unspoken. 

 

***********

He poked his head into three of the archive rooms before he found his brother. 

“Sam!” His brother whipped around, one hand reaching for his gun, the other protectively clasping a book to his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Sam was immediately focused, ready to react. 

Dean held his hands up. “Calm down, Annie Oakley, I just have a question.”

Sam relaxed, turning back to the shelves. “Ok, shoot.” He smiled at his own pun. Dean worked to keep his face motionless lest he encourage this awful attempt at humor. 

“Would you say I’m a drill sergeant?” Sam pulled a book off the shelf, re-shelved it, then pulled the same book out again as he contemplated a response. Finally he turned and gave Dean his full attention.

“I give up. This is a trick question, isn’t it?”

“That’s what Garth just called me.” Sam shook his head slightly, making his So What face but Dean held up a hand to stop him. “I know. Coming from him, it’s almost a compliment but then Cas—“

“He agreed?” Sam looked slightly pained.

“No, actually. He defended me.”

“So, then what exactly is the problem?” Dean closed the archive room door and turned to his brother with a rare, unguarded look in his eyes that Sam knew to take seriously.

“Am I just like Dad?”

Instead of answering the question, Sam asked, “Are you armed?”

“Of course.” Dean wondered what the hell that had to do with anything.

“I’ll answer you honestly but only if you promise not to shoot me.”

 

********

Later in the evening, Dean was watching TV in the main room when Cas walked through on his way to the kitchen. Dean called him over. 

“Hey,” Dean said. 

Instead of his usual “Hello, Dean” Cas responded with a clipped “Hey” of his own. Dean muted the TV.

“About earlier…” he started, then changed tactics. “I know that sometimes I…” he stopped again. “Look, when Sammy and I were growing up—“

Castiel stopped him and Dean was filled with gratitude that he wasn’t going to have to spell all of this out. Cas knew, he always understood.

“I don’t need you to explain to me about demanding fathers, Dean.” Castiel turned and walked out of the room, leaving Dean to stare after him.

 

********

The next morning, as a peace offering, Dean asked Cas to come along while he ran some errands. Cas politely turned him down.

“Garth is going to show me some movies to help with my pop culture references.”

Dean thought about reminding him that he could sit in the front seat (Yes, he knew Castiel was a full-grown man but truthfully, that often worked.) but stopped short when he realized it would make him sound desperate for the angel’s company. Instead he kept his face impassive and managed an “Ok. Fine” that came out somewhat pissier than he’d intended. Just then Garth walked into the room with a big bowl of popcorn and a couple of DVDs.

“Hey, Dean! You here for the John Hughes marathon?” He handed the popcorn to Cas who was making himself comfortable on the couch.

“Uh, no. I’ve got some things to do.” But instead of taking the Impala to run those errands, he went in search of Sam again. He found him in his room this time, sitting at his desk working on his laptop.

“Why is Garth even still here?” Dean hoped it came out as a casual question but he couldn’t completely erase the bitterness from his tone.

“Well, it’s been pretty quiet, so he’s had time to hang out. Plus, he’s been working with Cas a lot. You know how he likes to take on that mentoring role. “ Sam looked up from his computer at his brother who was leaning against the door frame, arms folded tightly across his chest. “Actually, it should be freeing you up quite a bit.” Dean was staring off into space, his mouth hard. “Dean.”

“What?” 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you…jealous of Garth?” Seeing the glare his brother directed at him, he backtracked. “I just mean, Cas always comes to you for help and explanations and that sort of thing, but now he’s got Garth helping him.”

“You know what? You’re absolutely right. I should be taking full advantage of being off babysitter duty. “ He dug his keys out of his pocket. “Jealous of Garth.” He made a small dismissive noise. “That‘s like being jealous of…” He pictured Garth’s scrawny, lanky limbs, “one of those balloon people outside car dealerships.” He briefly flapped his arms in imitation and they both laughed but Sam watched him leave, not fooled by his flippant response.

 

********

The next day the four of them were in the Impala on their way back from lunch. They rode in silence, practically in food comas from the Mexican feast. An actual chuckle from Cas in the back seat caused Sam and Dean to look at each other in amused surprise. Sam turned to see what was so funny and found Cas pointing out the window, smiling.

“Look at that balloon man! His unpredictable movements make him very amusing.”

Sam turned back around, not missing the way Dean’s jaw tightened. Sensing this would be a fine time for a distraction, he switched on the radio. 

“I know this one!” Cas was jubilant. “The Breakfast Club!” Garth high-fived him as Dean slapped the radio off. 

“I’ve got a headache,” he said in a voice that sounded like a dare.

 

********

The rest of the day Dean kept his distance, mostly staying in his room. He told himself he wasn’t pouting. He was just giving Cas all the time he wanted for movies or lessons or picnics or whatever the hell he and Garth had planned. He ate his dinner alone in his room and was almost to the kitchen with his dirty dishes when Garth came in to make an announcement.

“Well, guys, thanks for having me, but I’m gonna head back tomorrow. You know what they say about houseguests and old fish…” 

“You sure?” said Dean. _It’s about fucking time,_ he thought. He had a sudden mental image of slinging Garth over one shoulder and depositing him and his suitcase in his piece of crap Ford Ranchero.

“Yep, Garth Industries needs its CEO on site.” He turned to Castiel. “Hey, if you’d like to come along, I’ve got a whole set of John Cusack movies at home to further your education. “

Cas squinted slightly at Garth. Dean squinted slightly at Cas. No way he was considering the offer. Right?

“Just think about it. I’m planning to leave tomorrow after breakfast so you can let me know in the morning.”

“Thank you, Garth. I’ll let you know.”

 

********

Dean found himself moving from surface to surface in his room. He sat on his chair. Then he sat on his bed. Then he sat on his desk with his feet on his chair. Finally he gave up on trying to sit still and paced back and forth. When that didn’t help, he took a deep breath and walked down the hall to Cas’s room. The light was on, the door was half open and Cas was standing in the corner of the room, just staring at the wall. He was dressed for bed in plaid flannel pajama pants and a plain grey t-shirt, his feet bare. Dean knocked lightly on the door and watched Cas’s eyes focus as he turned towards him.

“Come in, Dean.”

‘So, you gonna go with Garth?” Christ, that did not sound like the apology he’d been working on.

“Would it matter if I did?”

Dean shrugged. “It’s up to you.”

Cas sighed in annoyance. He pointed to the metal desk chair. “Sit.”

Dean decided to humor the angel. He walked to the desk and in an exaggerated move, pulled the chair out, turning it to face Cas precisely. With that done, he slouched onto the chair, legs sprawled in front of him, arms and ankles crossed. 

“Don’t give me that condescending look. What I have to say is for your own good and it would behoove you to listen.” He held his finger up in warning and Dean sat up a little straighter. “You need to stop using your childhood as an excuse to treat other people badly. Instead of taking responsibility for your own actions, you just…” and here Cas jutted out his chin and dropped his voice a half octave to imitate Dean, “My dad was a dick.” 

Now Dean was sitting up straight. “I do _not_ sound like that. “ But Cas was just getting started. 

“You assume everyone will go along with you no matter what you do. You think questioning indicates a lack of trust. You think we will all blindly follow whatever you tell us. But when you are cruel and selfish, there are consequences to your actions.”

“Look, I tried to apologize and you just shot me down.”

“You _tried_ to apologize? You waited until I happened to walk into the room and you called me over. You didn’t even bother to turn off the television. What if I had stayed in my room that evening? Would you have even bothered to make the effort?” He approached Dean as he spoke, closing the space between them until he was standing over him, his face flushed with emotion. “There’s something to be said about a real gesture. Like Jake Ryan. With the cake. And the candles.” 

Dean was thoroughly taken aback by Cas’s vehemence. He felt tied to his chair by the force of the accurate assessment of his shortcomings. Yet he couldn’t stop what came out of his mouth next.

“What, so, you’re Molly Ringwald in this scenario?”

Castiel straightened up. He glared at Dean then turned and walked to the closet where he yanked out a duffel bag and tossed it onto the bed. Dean was immediately on his feet.

“Hey. Hey! Slow down.” He crossed the room to stand in front of Cas. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. Look, everything you said was true. It _is_ easier for me to blame my dad then to change my ways. And to be honest, I haven’t had a lot of experience with what you’d call 'real relationships'.” He rubbed his temple. “Most of the people I deal with are either trying to kill me or looking to me to save them. Hell, half the time even Sam probably can’t stand me, but I know he’s not going anywhere.” He paused and took a deep breath. “But it’s different with you”, and here Cas finally met his eyes “because you could leave any time. And then Garth gets here and suddenly all you want to do is spend time with him and I don’t know what to do with that. “

“Why don’t you try being honest.”

Dean was close enough to Cas to reach out and lightly take some of the soft cotton t-shirt into his hand. “I want to do better.” He didn’t know what else to do, so he gently tipped his head forward until his forehead rested on the angel’s. “And I don’t want you to go.”

They stood there, foreheads touching, Dean’s heart pounding, for a moment that felt like forever. Then Cas pulled him into a hug. Dean wrapped his arms around him, feeling the knot he’d been carrying in his chest dissolve. The relief was so sweet and so sudden that he sagged a little against Cas, his eyes unexpectedly filling with tears. After a long minute, Cas released his grip, holding Dean by the shoulders and stepping back so he could smile at him.

“That showed much improvement.”

“Can we put that away now?” Dean gestured to the duffel. Castiel nodded and picked it up pretending not to notice while Dean quickly wiped his eyes on his cuff.


End file.
